She was tied down, strapped so tightly that the bindings cut into her skin. The skin was wet at the bindings, and it stung, though she did not know if it was sweat or blood. She was alone, and she couldn't move. She was not free... not free... not free!!
And it was dark as ink. Dark as blood, and just as thick. She could not see or hear anything. But she KNEW that someone there was lying in wait. And that she was going to fall into an eternal hell for sins that she had never committed.
Then there was hard, cruel laughter. The laughter of control. She was controlled. There was nothing... NOTHING that she could do. He could hurt her in any and every single way he wanted to.
She was tied down, helpless, and she was going to hell.
Once again, brutal hands ripped at her, tearing, gouging, bruising, scarring... and it was not right. And she could not save herself.
She was controlled. And she was in hell. And she could not save herself.
* * *
Fallon sat bolt upright in the darkness, bathed in cold sweat, her eyes wide and wild and panicked. She had no idea where she was: this was not her bed. She was just about to scream when there was a soft whisper of "Lumos", and she found herself staring into Cassius Warrington's eyes.
She looked at him, startled, trying to make sense of the situation and figure out what he was doing there, lying on a bed, obviously startled out of sleep, but fully dressed. And then, it all came back to her, the events of yesterday, and she started to shiver.
He ran a warm hand somewhat awkwardly down her back, in and out of the tangled silk of her hair, and her hands, sore from how tightly they had been clenched around his robes, loosened slightly as she slowly calmed.
"Hush, it's okay. You're safe now... well, unless you wake up Montague the next bed over and he tells your Prefect friend," he said, half-jokingly, "In which case... we're both doomed. So, be quiet, hmm?"
"What... time is it?" she asked, her voice somewhat hoarse from the crying and the screaming earlier. He glanced at his watch.
"It's four in the morning, you should sleep some more," he whispered back. He was not quite sure if she would prefer to stay here, or to go back to her own dormitory. And he looked at her, a woman-child... well, really a woman now, but with her hair mussed, her eyes wide and afraid, and her lips trembling, tearstains and bruises marring her face. Her robe and uniform, both torn, really revealed more than he or anyone else had any right to see. And once again, he made a mental note that Kyle Holden, the bastard, would PAY for hurting her.
She was beautiful. Painful beauty. Beauty that hurt. And he didn't quite know what this was, or what to do with her.
She seemed, however, to have a mind of her own, for the hands that had been fisted around his robes loosened, and slid to his shoulders. And then, almost desperately, she was pressing soft, bittersweet lips against his, and in the kiss there was the taste of fear and tears.
He kissed her back, almost as a reassurance that she was all right now. What words they could not say seemed to pass from lip to lip, but a moment later, a realization shot through his mind, and he pulled away, his eyes wide.
"No... Fallon, Fallon, you don't mean this. Stop..." he held her at an arm's length, and two pairs of saddened brown eyes met. She looked at him silently for a moment, and then nodded.
"You're right," her voice was full of a resigned sort of exhaustion, "I was just... trying to make... to make what had happened... go away. I'm sorry... for using you like that." Her voice had an almost imperceptible tremor, and he felt a strange clench in his heart. But he forced a degree of levity into his voice.
"Don't be sorry," he said, "I can't complain if a beautiful woman snogs me, can I?"
She gave him a forced, watery smile, and then, the weariness set in once again. Slowly, she lay back down to rest her head on the pillow, and as she closed her eyes, one small hand reached out to clasp his larger one. She was fast asleep again within moments.
He watched her by wandlight, and knew that it would be long before he could fall asleep again.
* * *
Fallon awoke to a gray, chilly dawn. She blinked and stretched, then winced as the bruises on her body made protest. She looked down, and saw that she was lying in bed with Cassius Warrington. Her enemy. Her friend. Her first kiss. And she remembered...
Clinging to him, desperate, scared.
Kissing him in the darkness to reassure herself.
Crying in his arms.
She closed her eyes, and there was pain in her face for a moment, before something inside snapped, and she changed forever. When she opened her eyes again, they were different. Hard, guarded, like smooth, polished onyx. Beautiful, but aloof. No one could see past.
She looked down at his sleeping face. He was frowning slightly, though the dark hair on his forehead hid some of the frown lines. He was still fully dressed, and she... oh heavens... he'd seen far too much of her, in every sense of the word.
She could not let anyone see her so bared, so weak ever again. She was a Slytherin, and she knew now the darkest and basest corners of the human psyche. And she could never afford to show any chinks in her armor ever again. People were out to hurt people.
Her face blank and completely devoid of emotion, she gingerly got up from his bed and silently stole out of the room.
* * *
Cassius Warrington awoke about an hour after dawn. Fallon had left, probably to go back to her own dormitory. He sighed slightly, and picked a long strand of dark hair off his pillow. His bed smelled of jasmine and sorrow, and he shook himself awake.
All right. To shower and change into fresh robes. And then, to breakfast. And THEN, to hunt down a certain slimy, despicable Kyle Holden, and put him through formerly unheard-of levels of pain.
* * *
The girls crowded around Fallon that morning, all concerned and wondering where she'd been. She had shrugged, and said that she had fallen asleep somewhere else, and that she was fine, they should not worry.
She was rather pale and distant, but otherwise looked all right.
Fallon had spent an hour that morning carefully and methodically applying cosmetic potions and charms to conceal the bruises and tearstains.
She looked flawless.
Akasha Noctifer, sitting across from her, looked at her strangely. There was something indefinite, but it was there. There was something seriously wrong with Fallon that morning.
A moment later, Cassius Warrington, his hair still wet from the shower, sat down a few seats away, and Akasha watched shrewdly as the boy glanced at Fallon for a moment, before he turned away, his eyes filled with a strange sort of pain.
It was the weekend, and there were no classes that day. After breakfast, the girls would be going to Morrigun's room.
And Fallon would need to talk.
* * *
End Chapter 10
* * *
Sad....
And it was dark as ink. Dark as blood, and just as thick. She could not see or hear anything. But she KNEW that someone there was lying in wait. And that she was going to fall into an eternal hell for sins that she had never committed.
Then there was hard, cruel laughter. The laughter of control. She was controlled. There was nothing... NOTHING that she could do. He could hurt her in any and every single way he wanted to.
She was tied down, helpless, and she was going to hell.
Once again, brutal hands ripped at her, tearing, gouging, bruising, scarring... and it was not right. And she could not save herself.
She was controlled. And she was in hell. And she could not save herself.
* * *
Fallon sat bolt upright in the darkness, bathed in cold sweat, her eyes wide and wild and panicked. She had no idea where she was: this was not her bed. She was just about to scream when there was a soft whisper of "Lumos", and she found herself staring into Cassius Warrington's eyes.
She looked at him, startled, trying to make sense of the situation and figure out what he was doing there, lying on a bed, obviously startled out of sleep, but fully dressed. And then, it all came back to her, the events of yesterday, and she started to shiver.
He ran a warm hand somewhat awkwardly down her back, in and out of the tangled silk of her hair, and her hands, sore from how tightly they had been clenched around his robes, loosened slightly as she slowly calmed.
"Hush, it's okay. You're safe now... well, unless you wake up Montague the next bed over and he tells your Prefect friend," he said, half-jokingly, "In which case... we're both doomed. So, be quiet, hmm?"
"What... time is it?" she asked, her voice somewhat hoarse from the crying and the screaming earlier. He glanced at his watch.
"It's four in the morning, you should sleep some more," he whispered back. He was not quite sure if she would prefer to stay here, or to go back to her own dormitory. And he looked at her, a woman-child... well, really a woman now, but with her hair mussed, her eyes wide and afraid, and her lips trembling, tearstains and bruises marring her face. Her robe and uniform, both torn, really revealed more than he or anyone else had any right to see. And once again, he made a mental note that Kyle Holden, the bastard, would PAY for hurting her.
She was beautiful. Painful beauty. Beauty that hurt. And he didn't quite know what this was, or what to do with her.
She seemed, however, to have a mind of her own, for the hands that had been fisted around his robes loosened, and slid to his shoulders. And then, almost desperately, she was pressing soft, bittersweet lips against his, and in the kiss there was the taste of fear and tears.
He kissed her back, almost as a reassurance that she was all right now. What words they could not say seemed to pass from lip to lip, but a moment later, a realization shot through his mind, and he pulled away, his eyes wide.
"No... Fallon, Fallon, you don't mean this. Stop..." he held her at an arm's length, and two pairs of saddened brown eyes met. She looked at him silently for a moment, and then nodded.
"You're right," her voice was full of a resigned sort of exhaustion, "I was just... trying to make... to make what had happened... go away. I'm sorry... for using you like that." Her voice had an almost imperceptible tremor, and he felt a strange clench in his heart. But he forced a degree of levity into his voice.
"Don't be sorry," he said, "I can't complain if a beautiful woman snogs me, can I?"
She gave him a forced, watery smile, and then, the weariness set in once again. Slowly, she lay back down to rest her head on the pillow, and as she closed her eyes, one small hand reached out to clasp his larger one. She was fast asleep again within moments.
He watched her by wandlight, and knew that it would be long before he could fall asleep again.
* * *
Fallon awoke to a gray, chilly dawn. She blinked and stretched, then winced as the bruises on her body made protest. She looked down, and saw that she was lying in bed with Cassius Warrington. Her enemy. Her friend. Her first kiss. And she remembered...
Clinging to him, desperate, scared.
Kissing him in the darkness to reassure herself.
Crying in his arms.
She closed her eyes, and there was pain in her face for a moment, before something inside snapped, and she changed forever. When she opened her eyes again, they were different. Hard, guarded, like smooth, polished onyx. Beautiful, but aloof. No one could see past.
She looked down at his sleeping face. He was frowning slightly, though the dark hair on his forehead hid some of the frown lines. He was still fully dressed, and she... oh heavens... he'd seen far too much of her, in every sense of the word.
She could not let anyone see her so bared, so weak ever again. She was a Slytherin, and she knew now the darkest and basest corners of the human psyche. And she could never afford to show any chinks in her armor ever again. People were out to hurt people.
Her face blank and completely devoid of emotion, she gingerly got up from his bed and silently stole out of the room.
* * *
Cassius Warrington awoke about an hour after dawn. Fallon had left, probably to go back to her own dormitory. He sighed slightly, and picked a long strand of dark hair off his pillow. His bed smelled of jasmine and sorrow, and he shook himself awake.
All right. To shower and change into fresh robes. And then, to breakfast. And THEN, to hunt down a certain slimy, despicable Kyle Holden, and put him through formerly unheard-of levels of pain.
* * *
The girls crowded around Fallon that morning, all concerned and wondering where she'd been. She had shrugged, and said that she had fallen asleep somewhere else, and that she was fine, they should not worry.
She was rather pale and distant, but otherwise looked all right.
Fallon had spent an hour that morning carefully and methodically applying cosmetic potions and charms to conceal the bruises and tearstains.
She looked flawless.
Akasha Noctifer, sitting across from her, looked at her strangely. There was something indefinite, but it was there. There was something seriously wrong with Fallon that morning.
A moment later, Cassius Warrington, his hair still wet from the shower, sat down a few seats away, and Akasha watched shrewdly as the boy glanced at Fallon for a moment, before he turned away, his eyes filled with a strange sort of pain.
It was the weekend, and there were no classes that day. After breakfast, the girls would be going to Morrigun's room.
And Fallon would need to talk.
* * *
End Chapter 10
* * *
Sad....